主题：关于出家修行的可行性讨论 -- 沉静的悲哀

不过当时的直觉更偏向艾米丽·狄金斯（Emily Dickinson），不过Dickinson有活到50左右，应该不算早亡。

之所以会有这种直觉是大学的时候，英语老师讲过这位女诗人，提到她对死亡或曰坟墓的某种归宿感，甚至期待感，而且她的诗大都是短诗，所以

刚检索了一些她关于坟墓的诗歌，你可以看一下，确实和其他人很不一样，我读了之后，不禁想起提姆·波顿的电影，比如《鬼娃的新娘》，呵呵：

The Color of the Grave is Green

The Color of the Grave is Green—

The Outer Grave—I mean—

You would not know it from the Field—

Except it own a Stone—

To help the fond—to find it—

Too infinite asleep

To stop and tell them where it is—

But just a Daisy—deep—

The Color of the Grave is white—

The outer Grave—I mean—

You would not know it from the Drifts—

In Winter—till the Sun—

Has furrowed out the Aisles—

Then—higher than the Land

The little Dwelling Houses rise

Where each—has left a friend—

The Color of the Grave within—

The Duplicate—I mean—

Not all the Snows could make it white—

Not all the Summers—Green—

You’ve seen the Color—maybe—

Upon a Bonnet bound—

When that you met it with before—

The Ferret—cannot find—

More than the Grave is closed to me

More than the Grave is closed to me—

The Grave and that Eternity

To which the Grave adheres—

I cling to nowhere till I fall—

The Crash of nothing, yet of all—

How similar appears—

The grave my little cottage is

The grave my little cottage is,

Where “Keeping house” for thee

I make my parlor orderly

And lay the marble tea.

For two divided, briefly,

A cycle, it may be,

Till everlasting life unite

In strong society.

Those who have been in the Grave the longest

Those who have been in the Grave the longest—

Those who begin Today—

Equally perish from our Practise—

Death is the other way—

Foot of the Bold did least attempt it—

It—is the White Exploit—

Once to achieve, annuls the power

Once to communicate—

How fortunate the Grave

How fortunate the Grave—

All Prizes to obtain—

Successful certain, if at last,

First Suitor not in vain.

I know of people in the Grave

I know of people in the Grave

Who would be very glad

To know the news I know tonight

If they the chance had had.

’Tis this expands the least event

And swells the scantest deed—

My right to walk upon the Earth

If they this moment had.

The Stimulus, beyond the Grave

The Stimulus, beyond the Grave

His Countenance to see

Supports me like imperial Drams

Afforded Day by Day.

I see thee clearer for the Grave

I see thee clearer for the Grave

That took thy face between

No Mirror could illumine thee

Like that impassive stone—

I know thee better for the Act

That made thee first unknown

The stature of the empty nest

Attests the Bird that’s gone.

It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone

It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone

Enclosed ’twas not of Rail

A Consciousness its Acre, and

It held a Human Soul.

Entombed by whom, for what offence

If Home or Foreign born—

Had I the curiosity

’Twere not appeased of men

Till Resurrection, I must guess

Denied the small desire

A Rose upon its Ridge to sow

Or take away a Briar.

Within thy Grave!

Within thy Grave!

Oh no, but on some other flight—

Thou only camest to mankind

To rend it with Good night—

Back from the cordial Grave I drag thee

Back from the cordial Grave I drag thee

He shall not take thy Hand

Nor put his spacious arm around thee

That none can understand

Not any higher stands the Grave

Not any higher stands the Grave

For Heroes than for Men—

Not any nearer for the Child

Than numb Three Score and Ten—

This latest Leisure equal lulls

The Beggar and his Queen

Propitiate this Democrat

A Summer’s Afternoon—